When Mothering Is Hard

When the nurse handed him to me, I had "the moment." I didn't expect it, really, because I was not one of those women who have an earth-goddess pregnancy experience. My pregnancy wasn't particularly challenging, but I did have significant food aversions, a habit of gagging every time I brushed my teeth, and exhaustion that kept me from really getting the idea I was growing a baby until towards the end of my pregnancy. But when she handed him to me for the first time, my heart tuned into motherhood. It all just clicked. He was my baby. Other babies might be slobbery, needy, and kind of boring. But not this guy. This guy was the cutest baby in the world.

It was in the weeks that followed that I began to realize I was falling so in love with mothering that I was losing myself. To a certain extent, I think this is inevitable. When people say the first three months of a new baby's life are the fourth trimester, they aren't kidding. This little guy needed me just as much as he ever had, and I was happy to be there.

But over time, the exhaustion begins to build, and with it, anxiety. Anxiety over little things.

I don't know why more women aren't honest about how difficult the transition to motherhood is. Maybe it's because we're afraid we will sound like we don't love mothering. But in my experience, that's not the case at all. It's the opposite, really. Maybe we love mothering so much that we forget our own autonomy.

I don't think I realized how hard things were getting until I woke up in the middle of the night to my son crying and felt like I was struggling to breathe. My physical exhaustion was beginning to manifest itself in anxiety episodes.

Or when family members asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I was a little caught off guard to realize... I have no idea.

Or when Matt asked me what he can do to help me feel like myself again, and I thought... I don't even know what that would look like.

People are always telling you, "Enjoy your baby. It goes so fast." I know why they say this, because it does go so fast. But what if you already know how fast it goes? What if you've planted your heels firmly in the ground in resistance against time passing, and in the meantime, you've left no margin in your life?

The challenge of mothering, I'm realizing, is the blending of the self with another-- the perpetual need to decide when to untangle and when to twist tighter. From the moment pregnancy begins, as a mother, you share your identity with your child. And thus begins the most beautiful, difficult, and rewarding role of your life.

Since becoming a mother, I have found a respect for my body, my heart, and my intuition I never before knew. It has already been the most empowering experience of my life. I often find myself more outspoken now.

But since becoming a mother, I have also struggled in new ways. I'm convinced I had bouts with postpartum depression and anxiety, though I didn't go to my midwife for a diagnosis like I should have. I have come to realize the loneliness of the second and third and fourth middle-of-the-night feedings-- the wish your baby would hurry up and go back to sleep and the then subsequent guilt you aren't enjoying these moments enough. The breaking point between physical exhaustion and the ever-deepening love you feel for your baby. And that moment you're standing in the card aisle at Target and suddenly can't remember where you are or what you're doing-- that moment you realize that maybe you shouldn't have driven because despite your resolve to get out of the house that day, your body is weak.

When I've talked to other mothers, they have almost all said they experienced the same things. Why are we so afraid to talk about it publicly? I had none of these types of questions about the birth experience, because that is a pain we're all comfortable sharing. :) Why do we hesitate to admit that the process of working with our baby to provide a safe, beautiful entrance into the world only starts with birth? That the pains turn from physical to emotional ones after your child is born, but still require just as much focus, surrender, and strength? That at the end of our labor are beautiful moments to be found again and again after subsequent periods of contractions? And that maybe we will never stop dealing with those aches, but we learn to handle them better?

A few weeks ago, after talking with Matt, I decided to start being more intentional about finding time for myself again. Already, I feel so much better.



Mamas, and especially new mamas, I want to encourage you. You're not alone, even though you may feel lonely. I know you already realize that what you are doing on a daily basis matters for your kid(s) and your family. But here's something else-- what you're doing on a daily basis matters for you. So take care of yourself. Whether it's dance classes, writing time, learning to paint, or going on a walk by yourself once a week. Never forget that your role as a mother is incredibly important. But even more than that, never forget that you are incredibly important. Just because you're God's. And if under the t-shirt and leggings you've worn seventeen times in a row without a wash you can no longer sense that deeper person God has created you to be, you may need to reevaluate a way to pour back into your own heart. Because you are worth that, and a better you makes a better mother.

You are strong, new mamas. You are strong. Keep keeping on.

The Beauty of Smallness

I'm writing this blog one-handed as my baby sleeps in my other arm. I could probably lay him in his crib, but I know he won't always be this small, so today, I'm going to hold him.

This afternoon, I've been thinking about the beauty of smallness.

Our society often values grand gestures. The expensive car, the huge house, even those of grand physical stature-- the athletes, for instance, and the cover models. But I can't help but think of tiny, scrawny little David going up against Goliath, and I'm reminded that God values the small, whether we value it or not.

When I first found out I was pregnant almost a year ago, I didn't feel like I'd expected. I didn't instantly feel like there was a tiny human growing inside me. I couldn't see a bump until well into my second trimester. I didn't feel hiccups or kicks until then either. The little person on the ultrasound looked more like a coffee bean than my son. I thought the reality of his life would hit me in one fell swoop the minute the test showed two lines. But that didn't really happen until I met him. Instead, I felt surprisingly.... normal. Happy, yes, Thankful, yes. But normal.

The thing is, God invests the grandest purpose into the smallest life and allows it to unfold. To grow. He could have devised a system wherein we were born at our peak physical strength and grew weaker from then on, but He didn't. He created a birth plan--the ultimate birth plan-- where little things grow.

I believe that even the smallest life carries within it value and purpose from the moment of conception. That, in the words of Dr, Suess, "A person's a person, no matter how small."

And I believe the beauty of smallness really goes beyond babies and children and extends into every area of our lives. Zechariah 4:10 tells us not to despise the day of small beginnings.

If the most beautiful thing we partake in-- new life-- starts out so small, what sort of template does that provide for other aspects of our lives? For our careers, our hopes, and our dreams?

Are we throwing away the seeds of our gardens and wondering why we don't see any butterflies?

However small and insignificant your dream and efforts may seem today, do not despise the day of small beginnings. You may feel perfectly normal. You may not see any progress from the outside. Today may mark just another ordinary day of editing your not-yet-sold story, of reading to your children, of investing yourself in your day job. Today may seem so very insignificant that it does not seem to matter at all. But life is growing, and it's beautiful.

Beautifully small.

We're Almost There

Does God ever speak to you when you're least expecting it?

Tonight, my husband and I were driving home from dinner with friends when our new baby got hungry. We weren't in the best part of town where we could pull over to feed him, so we decided to hurry on home. Well, in the meantime, Nate got really upset. I generally feed him pretty immediately when he cries, so I'm not used to being in a situation where I have to listen to him cry when I know what he needs. It was awful. All I could do was hold his little hands and try to comfort him, hoping to make him feel better.

"I understand," I found myself saying. "I know you're hungry. But we're almost there. I know you can't understand that, because you don't know what my words mean yet. But we're almost home."

And then it hit me.

That is exactly what God says to me and you.

For me, this especially applies to writing. Maybe you're in the same boat. It can be hard to keep faith in your goals some days, when it feels like nothing is changing.

Some days, I find myself in the car, so to speak, and crying, "God, don't you understand? Why aren't you doing something? Can't you hear me?"

Meanwhile, we're already in the car, on our way. And God is holding my fragile hands, and He's saying, "I do understand. But we're almost there. I know you can't understand that, because you don't know what my words mean yet. But we're almost home."

Ten Things I'm Learning as a New Mom

Nine weeks ago, I gave birth to my little son. I read books, attended classes, and spent plenty of time on blogs in preparation for his birth, but I really had no idea how many life would change. People tell you all sorts of placades like, "It's the hardest and most wonderful thing you'll ever experience." What in the world is that supposed to mean? I'll tell you what they really mean. Prepare to meet the love of your life, but I hope you like caffeine, because you'll never sleep again.

But in all truth, it is amazing how quickly your perspective shifts when you have a little human depending on you to be their voice. So I thought I'd blog today about ten ways childbirth changes everything.

1) You gain a completely new respect for your body. When I first became pregnant, I was worried about stretch marks. Well, guess what. Like every other pregnant woman in the world, I got 'em. But you know what? While I wouldn't mind them fading, they don't bother me nearly as much as I thought because they're a reminder of what an incredible thing my body did-- it grew a tiny human being and then pushed him out into the world. Not until my baby was born did I fully appreciate the magnitude of that miracle and how many things had to fall into place for it to happen, from my organs shifting around to my hormone levels telling this baby to grow. How does my body know how do to that? I remember sitting in the hospital bed, looking at my baby in awe that just hours before, I was pregnant with him. I mean, wow!

2) Childbirth gave me such a greater appreciation for God's intentionality in each human life. I know that sounds trite, but I really mean it. When it's other people's kids you're talking about, it's easy to say they're so cute and imagine what they might someday do or become. But when it's your own child, you suddenly see this tiny human as making a huge impact on the world, and from the moment you lay eyes on them, you have no doubt they were put here for a reason.

3) Two o'clock in the morning is no longer a fun time of the day. I used to routinely stay up until two o'clock writing stories when the rest of the world was asleep. Now I'm generally crying and begging my child to sleep for four hours next time instead of two and a half. ;)

4) Contractions have a way of really amping up your prayer life. I joke, but truly, childbirth taught me the importance of taking life moment by moment rather than living in the past or in the future. Pain has a way of bringing your focus where it really should be at all times: the present moments.

5) You can't make it without learning to surrender. I first learned this little gem of a lesson during labor, when I had to trust my body knew what it was doing even if my conscious mind didn't. Now, I'm learning this lesson in a whole new way as my baby outgrows sizes, wiggles around a whole lot more, and doesn't snuggle against me in quite the same way he used to. I can either grieve the change, or roll with it and enjoy this new season of smiles and coos.

6) Sometimes you just need a Little Debbie's brownie.

7) I don't regret buying my baby a wardrobe full of (mostly- clearanced) BabyGap and Carter's outfits. He may only wear some of them once, but you know what? He'll also only be this small once, and I'm going to enjoy dressing him up while he'll still let me.

8) I finally have a good excuse to pull out all the not-age-appropriate clothes I've been hanging on to all these years... my fuschia JEM hoodie, the Tigger-ear headband I always like to wear in Disney World, and my Larry the Cucumber t-shirt. It's for the baby, really.

9) Maybe it's because I live in the South, but it seems friendly strangers routinely feel comfortable approaching me and asking to see and even touch my baby, even if he's clearly taking a nap. Stranger danger, folks. Stranger danger. I've learned baby-wearing and the cover-the-car-seat trick do help (thank you Aden + Anais), but only so much. I know these people mean well, but I'm tempted to say, "Would you like to wake up from a nap to find a stranger fifteen times your size peering down at you in a bakery?"

10) You will learn to trust your baby far more than you ever thought you could. Even at two months old, Nathanael lets me know what he wants and needs if I just pay attention. I guess I underestimated how clearly babies communicate until I had my own and experienced that momma-baby connection. I'd always felt more in tune with puppies' needs than babies', to be honest. Babies had always scared me a little... so many things to remember about supporting the head and swaddling tight enough and avoiding overstimulation. But when it's your own child, you just know what they need and when. And you learn to trust them early on.

I could go on, but as point #11, I've learned to value nap time, so I better get some fiction writing in while I can. :)

Nathanael's Natural Birth

I know this isn't my typical writing-related post, but I had several friends ask about my birth story, so I figured this would be a great place to share it!

Photo by Southern Grace Photography at
southerngracephotographyandevents.com

While I was pregnant, I searched for positive birth stories (especially ones from normal people who didn't have some sort of un-relatable fertility goddess aura going on) because they helped me think of birth in a positive light rather than as something to be feared.

The sad reality is that people like to tell pregnant women horror stories of terrible birth experiences. I don't even know where they come up with some of this stuff. If you're pregnant, you may've heard the pain of labor is the worst a human being can experience, being equivalent to 20 bones breaking at once (uh--does any living person actually know what breaking 20 bones at once feels like?). I hope my story encourages you to see birth as a beautiful thing rather than something to dread. And if you're planning a natural childbirth, I hope you're empowered to know it can absolutely be done.

I have to be honest-- the first reason I started researching natural childbirth is because I hate needles, and the idea of the epidural totally weirded me out. Not exactly a noble, crunchy momma approach to natural childbirth, but there it is. ;) But as I learned the benefits to mom and baby, as well as the lowered medical intervention rate for natural childbirths, I knew this was the route I wanted to go.

Side note: My husband and I chose to take Bradley classes, which was an invaluable experience for us. Without them, I would've felt so lost during labor and delivery. They equipped me with the knowledge to better understand and trust my body, and they equipped my husband to be an active participant in labor. So if you're planning a natural childbirth, definitely consider this method!

For me, labor and delivery had a definite spiritual aspect, and I would be remiss if I didn't mention it. The more I thought about labor while I was pregnant, the more I realized the correlations between my Christian faith and the labor process. God's fingerprints, actually, were all over the whole thing-- this painful process is a consequence of sin entering the world (Gen. 3:16) but shows the pinnacle of redemption in its ending. See, I've always thought of painful contractions as a punishment from God for Eve's sin (don't you hate her?). But what if that's all wrong? What if labor is not a punishment, but a lesson, to show us just how painful sin is? To protect us from staying in that state of brokenness forever? Because the beautiful thing about contractions is that each one pushes your body closer to delivery. And delivery is the beginning of new life. 

Now, I have a pet peeve about people acting like they're somehow better because they managed to avoid pain meds, so let me be clear that I don't think going med-free somehow brought me closer to God. Unless you count my prayers during contractions. ;) But the reason I mention the spiritual aspect is because it demystified labor for me. I came to see the whole process not in terms of the pain but in terms of the beauty... yes, it hurts (badly), but that's because your body is using that pain to bring about new life (hello, Gospel!).

Now, for my birth story! I had been praying nearly the entire pregnancy about my labor and delivery. No joke, you guys. I was pretty freaked out initially, and praying really helped bring me peace (most of the time, at least!). The week before labor, I had an appointment with my midwife and found out I was 4 cm and 90% effaced! What! So that was really exciting to know my body was doing the work it should be, especially because my mom had the labor of all labor nightmares when giving birth to me, and they say genetics can impact your experience.

When Tuesday the 12th came,  I woke up that morning (*ahem* afternoon),  with a very painful contraction. I texted my husband to let him know, but didn't think too much of it at that point (don't you always assume it's a false alarm?). Then, I had more. And more. So I started timing them and realized my contractions were only about 2-3 minutes apart (they started that way!!!). I called my husband to tell him he needed to get home!

He got there quickly, and not long after, my water broke at home (woot! for it not happening in Starbucks). I had a particularly painful contraction after that, and started getting nervous we wouldn't make it to the hospital in time. We'd planned to wait and labor at home as long as possible, but also hadn't bargained for such quick contractions! So, we hopped in the car, and I still think that was probably the worst part of my labor. I'm pretty sure I almost had two sets of transition, because I did later have the typical 8 cm transition with double and triple contraction peaks, but in the car, I started exhibiting transition symptoms. I was shaking, threw up, just really in pain. We finally got to the labor and delivery desk (which I walked up to because I'm a crazy person) and got checked in. Turned out I was at 6 cm. At this point, it was about 3:30, and everything continued to happen quickly from there.

I had planned all this stuff to do during labor... walking around the halls, visualizations, etc. etc. and guess what I did? None of it. Instead, I went inward to focus. One of the nurses thought I was hypnobirthing, and I guess in a way, I was--even though I had not planned on doing that at all. I had my eyes closed for most of my labor, and I just sat in that hospital bed/chair upright, hooked to my strep B IV. I had every intention of getting up whenever the IV was done, but by that point, I was so uncomfortable I couldn't imagine moving! 

A couple hours or so later, I started feeling like I had to go to the bathroom, so husband helped me get unhooked from the contraction monitor, which in and of itself was like a comedy routine because I was still hooked to that IV for antibiotics. Turned out, though, the pressure was from the baby descending. I had my first pushing contraction, and let me just say, people aren't kidding when they say your body pushes whether you help it or not. Is that not the craziest feeling? So, we'd learned in my childbirth class this whole pretend-to-blow-out-a-candle trick to help keep you from pushing if you aren't ready. WHAT A JOKE. My husband kept reminding and encouraging me to do the quick breaths, and finally, I puffed out between contractions, "I-am-going-to-hy-per-vent-i-late." I didn't think I could hold off pushing much longer. But then the doctor showed up (my midwife was out of town--boo!) and told me I was close enough that I could push if I wanted to--such sweet words! At this point, it was only around 6:15 or 6:30, and I was feeling encouraged that things were moving so fast. I remember glancing at the clock even though I'd told myself I wouldn't do that.

So, after laboring another thirty minutes or so on my own, a nurse helped me get into a more productive pushing position, and man, don't you know I took advantage of finally having something I could help my body do! I think she was surprised how effectively I was pushing because Nathanael moved FAST at that point, and after a few minutes, she said, "Okay, I'm going to need you to stop pushing now while I call the doctor." Once the doctor entered the room, it was only about 20 more minutes before Nathanael was born. He had some meconium, so they had to wait to stimulate him to cry until they suctioned that out, but boy was it the best sound when I heard him cry! It was ammazing how quickly my body felt normal after he was born. Within minutes, all the pain of labor was over, and I was holding him. It was the most beautiful thing.


In case you're reading this blog because you're pregnant and looking for birth stories, let me encourage you. Labor hurt. It was the most intense thing I've ever done and probably will ever do. Those midwives and doulas who avoid the word "pain"? They're lying. I had to really work to stay focused on breathing, and in the moment of intense labor, all those positive affirmations I'd practiced went out the window ("This is pain with a purpose."-- Who stinking cares. When you're 8 cm, all you care about is that it's pain). But I never once felt afraid or out of control. Not one time. I never did ask for pain meds. And when I came out of it on the other side, I was amazed by the fact that I-- a normal person-- had just birthed a baby and had the privilege of being part of a miracle.

How to Beat Conference Exhaustion.. And Help Others, Too!

Today begins the 2014 ACFW conference, a day many have waited for with both excitement and near-panic. :)  As the conference begins, I want to give you all some quick tips I've learned over the years about making the most of your conference experience.

First, let's take a stroll down memory lane, shall we?

Here I am last conference:

Yep, that's me, all right, with a broken foot and two precious friends pushing me around Indianapolis!

Let's just say, not exactly how I'd planned to spend the conference.

If you're ever had a broken foot/ankle/leg, you know getting around is no small challenge. Even though my foot wasn't in a lot of pain at that point (thank goodness), I was soooooo overwhelmed trying to manage basics, like washing my hair. Add in the need to find food, and you've got a potential recipe for disaster!

Every. single. thing. last year was exhausting for me because of that broken foot. Getting around was, quite honestly, a real challenge, and took twice the physical strength/energy it normally would. Breezing over to Starbucks was not so simple as walking down there. It generally involved me texting my dear friend Angie Dicken and asking her to deliver my tea. ;)

As a result of this, I found myself worn down both physically and emotionally. It was hard to remember my pitch, maneuver independently from point A to point B, AND allow myself to feel refreshed by this special time with mentors and friends. Thankfully, my pitches went fairly well, and I didn't fall flat on my face, literally or figuratively. But by the end of the conference last year, I was drained as drained could be emotionally. Because every little movement from one floor to the next or from one classroom to an appointment session, took all the strength I could muster. And let me tell you, that really takes it out of a girl after a few days! I came away from the conference having learned a lot, and having had a fun time, but also feeling completely and utterly exhausted.

Even if you don't have a broken bone, let me tell you, this exhaustion is a real danger for all conference go-ers. You add "one more thing" into your schedule, then another, and before you know it, you're booked from 6 AM until 1 in the morning. You're not getting any sleep or any down time. And you can't even remember your name anymore, let alone your story.

So here's my advice. Keep your priorities in perspective.  If your prioritize is to learn from the classes, great. Focus on those. If your priority is to relationship-build, spend time networking. If your priority is pitching... don't get your hopes up. HA! No, I kid. But seriously, be open to the unexpected opportunities God has for you.

If you run yourself ragged, you may become so exhausted that you miss out on God moments. You may be too tired to interact with the editor He puts you in the elevator with, the author whose book you just read and loved, or the new conference attendee who's sitting in the corner, alone and overwhelmed.

It's oh-so-important we allow ourselves time to recharge so that we can be on the lookout for these God-moments both for ourselves and for those who need our encouragement. If you're only focusing on your own conference experience, you're going to miss a big blessing in reaching out to others and encouraging them. Be intentional about encouraging and praying with people before they pitch, be on the lookout for people who look discouraged or lonely, and just smile at people when they seem frustrated or down. Keep the good vibes going. :)

So here are some ways you can recharge, and I hope they help you to prioritize your own mental and emotional wellness while at the conference!

• Minimize sleep deprivation. Fact is, we all sleep too little at the conference. But six hours versus one hour are a different story. Prioritize rest, whether you're a night owl, an early bird, or even if you take some naps.
• Go back to the room/Starbucks/the lobby to recharge. Many people (myself included) need a few minutes of alone time to feel like themselves. I'm a total extrovert, but if I don't have a least a few minutes alone per day, I go crazy, like I can't make sense of my own thoughts.
• Be intentional about prayer. Go to the prayer room, your own room, or even just a quiet spot in the lobby and have an ongoing conversation with God. Ask Him to help you see the opportunities He's placed before you, to help you be faithful, and to give you peace.
• EAT! If you're too nervous to eat at lunch because you're sitting by your dream editor, then by all means, skip the first part of the next workshop and order yourself a sandwich. Skipping meals does not make for goodness whenever you're already keyed up with excitement and tired.
• Don't feel guilty about skipping breakfast, sessions, or workshops if you need to rest, eat, or even just relax your mind for an hour. Yes, you want to get the most out of the conference, but in order to do that, you have to feel well. Your health, physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional, needs to be a priority so you can express yourself well to others.
• Don't forget the cereal bars! It's always a good idea to have a few snacks on hand just in case your flight is delayed or you miss a meal. Be prepared with vitamins, medications, etc. just in case.
• When all else fails, drink caffeine. :)

Your turn! What do you do to keep from getting overly exhausted at conferences? Any tips or advice to share?

###

Ashley Clark writes romance with southern grace. She's dreamed of being a writer ever since the thumbprint-cookie-days of library story hour. Ashley has an M.A. in English and enjoys teaching literature courses at her local university. She's an active member of ACFW and runs their newcomer's loop. When she's not writing, Ashley's usually busy rescuing stray animals and finding charming new towns. You can find Ashley on her personal blog, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. She is represented by Karen Solem.

Makeover Giveaway! Win a $15 Sephora Card!

Hey, everyone! Hope you are having a good year so far and staying warm. Can you believe we're supposed to get several inches of snow tonight here in Florida? It's crazy cold around here!

As you may've noticed, my blog has recently had a makeover, and I've decided to share the makeover love by giving away a $15 Sephora gift card to celebrate!

To be eligible to win, simply comment by Saturday, February 1st, and tell us one reason you're excited about 2014. I'm looking forward to hearing from all of you!

Postcards at Christmas by Julie Carobini-- A Cup of Christmas Cheer Blog Hop!

First things first, I want to announce the winner of the Christmas mug featured on Anita Mae Draper's blog last week is Katie J! Congratulations, Katie!

On the blog today, I'm so happy to be reviewing Julie Carobini's "Postcards at Christmas," which can be found in the A Cup of Christmas Cheer collection, Volume 2. I think you're going to really enjoy this story! Be sure to read the end of the blog for details on how you can WIN a copy of Julie's book, Fade to Blue! And if you'd like a chance to win the GRAND prize, be sure you stop at each blog on the tour and leave comment!

If you're a fan of Julie's other work, you won't want to miss this charming Christmas story. As usual, Julie has created a host of colorful, charming characters. Put that together with a small town at Christmas, and you've got the setting of "Postcards at Christmas." 

What would you do if you discovered an elderly woman is missing at Christmastime, and her son might not even know she's gone? 

That's exactly the situation Olivia, the main character in "Postcards at Christmas," finds herself in.

The story starts off when Olivia, who runs a thrift shop and longs to travel the world, discovers a box full of classic books and postcards from beautiful locales. When she sees the signatures on the backs of the postcards, she realizes the donation must be a mistake . . .  or is it?

Her search for the box's owner soon turns into an even greater investigation as she realizes the elderly woman whom the box belongs to is missing. What follows is a search involving everyone from Olivia's mother, to a neighbor, and even the postman, in a story sure to put you in the Christmas spirit.

But when Olivia does find the box's owner, she's in for an even greater surprise when the woman's son turns out to be quite different from what she expected. And, in the end, Olivia gets her own sort of Christmas gift as a result of all the work she's done to help others.

You'll just have to read it to see how it all turns out!

I thought Julie's story was such a fun read because the pacing was quick, the setting and characters were quaint, and it really had that wonderful Christmas feel! I always love a story with a happy ending.

Have you ever done something to help someone else, only to find yourself the one helped?

To be eligible to win a copy of Fade to Blue (B&H Books), be sure you leave a comment as well as an e-mail address where I can contact you next week in case you win. 

Fade to Blue is set on the California coast, in the shadow of the famed Hearst Castle overlooking the sea. The local is not unlike those depicted on the postcards that Olivia finds in "Postcards at Christmas." You'll definitely want a chance to snag this book right up if you don't already have a copy!

Julie Carobini is a fiction writer living in a non-fiction world. By day she shepherds non-fiction titles through the editorial and production process for Gospel Light/Regal Books. By night she writes novels set by the sea--five published to date. Romantic Times says, "Carobini has a talent for creating characters that come alive ..." Married to Dan and mom to three, she loves all things coastal (except sharks). www.juliecarobini.com

Now for a little more about our blog hope and the prizes! Each blog "hop" or stop will have a giveaway. And at the end of all the hops there will be a Grand Prize to someone who has visited and commented on every blog stop.  A $70.00 porcelain tea set from Yorktown's Victory Center will be part of the Grand Prize along with other gifts such as a $10 Amazon card, special hot cocoa packets, the two-book set of "A Cup of Christmas Cheer" and more!
Here's the complete Blog Hop schedule:
Friday, November 8th, Carla Olson Gade is on Carrie Fancett Pagels' blog 
Saturday, November 9th,   Ashley Clark is on Anita Mae Draper's blog.Saturday, November 16th, Anita Mae Draper is on Johnnie Alexander Donley's blog.
Sunday Nov 17th  Julie Carobini on Ashley Clark's blog
Friday, November 22nd,  Carrie Fancett Pagels is on Carla Olson Gade's blog.
Saturday, November 23rd,  Johnnie Alexander Donley is on Julie Carobini's blog 
Friday, November 29th,  Colonial Quills Blog to announce Grand Prize winner.

The Grand Prize winner must have left a comment on each of the Blog Hop blogs.
A $70 porcelain tea set from Yorktown Victory Center, a $10 Amazon gift card, special cocoa packets and more will be given away. So be sure you stop at each blog and say hello! 

The Phantom Boot

When I was a little girl, I used to slip on my mom's heels and walk around the house. I dreamed of growth. I dreamed of having my own heels. I dreamed of being like my mom.

Over the course of time, I did grow. I did get my own heels--plenty of them. And I did--I hope--become like my mom.

Then one month ago, I broke my foot. It did hurt, especially at first, but beyond the physical pain was a growing frustration. I couldn't walk normally, couldn't wear normal shoes, couldn't do a whole host of things I had grown accustomed to doing. My independence was slashed, and some of my confidence went down with it. I learned such a greater empathy for those with disabilities, and such a greater sense of appreciation for the capabilities I enjoy every day. I hobbled around the ACFW conference last week trying hard to act like normal, but really, feeling a bit disheartened. Everything--even going to Starbucks for a sweet tea or two--required so much effort and energy than it used to.

This week, my doctor gave me glorious news. I can now start wearing normal shoes again! Can you say, "Hello, glitter flats"? But you know what? A funny thing happened when I took that heavy black boot off.

I still couldn't walk.

Well, not well, anyway.

The heaviness I'd grown accustomed to--the phantom boot as I like to call it--had changed the way walk. I had to adjust to this boot--this thing that was used to help me, but when it was gone, I kept assuming a heaviness that wasn't there.

For the past few days, I've been walking around in my flats, practicing.

I'd forgotten what it means to walk with freedom.

Today, you may have just come through a season of struggle, like me. Or maybe you're still in that season. You have grown into your high-heel dreams. It has taken time, and effort, and a lot of prayer and wishing. Then maybe, one day you fell, and it all came crashing down.

Take time to heal. You need that for your heart, especially if we're talking writing dreams.

But after you have taken that time, and after the healing is well underway, I want to ask you a question.

Are you wearing glitter flats, but walking with the heaviness of a phantom boot?

Jesus took that weight from you. He has set you free. So, go in freedom. Dance with joy. You are no longer broken. You and your dreams have been healed, indeed.

Brokenness

Take a close look at this picture. What do you see?

I took this picture while we were in Tofino, BC-- one of the most beautiful places my eyes have ever beheld, by the way-- so it has a particularly special meaning to me.

This is an old-growth forest, one of the rarest environments in the world. Some of these trees are over 800 years old. Tofino is home to rare and endangered wildlife, like bald eagles, grey whales, all sorts of sea lions and otters, and cool birds--many of which I had the chance to see.

When you look at this picture, there are several things that may call your attention: the green leaves of the trees, the sun shining brightly through the branches, the tall stretching trunks, or the huge grandfather of a tree that has fallen at the bottom.

When I saw these "nursery trees," I was really stricken with sadness. These are trees that have grown huge over a long period of time, and then something like a wind storm comes by, and they fall. Beholding that kind of majesty fallen feels somehow deeply saddening. Deeply wrong.

See, the thing is, we don't like to see things that are broken.

I've experienced this the past week with my foot. There have been so many times when I just wanted life-as-usual. To walk on my foot. To wear my cute shoes. To drive my car to a bookstore and get a tea while I write.

This whole thing has made me more conscious of how fake we can be with one another, especially on social networking websites. It's easy to post a picture of your food or your cat on Facebook or Twitter, and lie to the world, when all the while, you are feeling broken. And let's face it. We all feel broken sometimes.

None of us like brokenness, so we hide it. Like Adam and Eve in the Garden, we grow ashamed of our weaknesses and hurt. We try to pretend everything is just peachy all the time because we've got Jesus. But I believe this propensity to fake it is weakening our witness to the gospel.

See, the thing is, God is big. Redemption is real. And so are sin and pain.

God can handle the truth about where we are, right where we are. Maybe everything is just peachy for you right now, or maybe it isn't. God is the very same loving God, no matter where you stand. He hasn't forgotten you. He hasn't let you go or lost control.

When we pull back from others and refuse to acknowledge our brokenness--in whatever form it may take--we refuse the power of Christ's redemption and the glory of his sacrifice for us.

Going back to the "nursery log," I learned in Tofino that these fallen trees serve a very important function. It can take hundreds of years before some of them decompose, and in the meantime, they actually serve as a sort of nursery to young plants. They shelter these seedlings from the harshness of the world until the plants are strong enough to withstand them. They provide nutrients even in their decay. They provide homes for wildlife--some of which won't nest elsewhere. In essence, the brokenness matters. It sustains the future. It can be redeemed.

Have you ever felt frustrated social media that may feel like a charade? How does getting honest about our pain point toward the depths of Christ's redemption?

The Tiny, Broken Bone

Friday was a normal day. Until I went into the garage for a screwdriver of all things, and fell. I heard a snap sound when I went down, and I knew it wasn't going to be good. Before I knew it, I was on the concrete of our garage, with a rushing pain like when you stub your toe. I called for Matt, and he and Schroeder came running. Two hours and a trip to urgent care later, I got the prognosis: I had broken the 5th metatarsal of my foot. 5th metatarsal breaks can be tricky, so they put me in a splint and referred me to a specialist.

Let me just say, you don't realizing how your life will be turned upside down by something like this until it happens. Sure, you can imagine. But when you can't actually get a glass of water when you're thirsty or peppermints when your stomach feels sick from the pain medicine, when you can't look out the kitchen window to watch hummingbirds or go get the mail, you get a new appreciation for mobility. And getting around on crutches is HARD! The receptionist at the doctor today told me she read that using crutches burns twice as many calories as regular activity because it's so physically challenging. I don't know what I would've done without the help of my husband.

And then there is the emotional slap in the face when you get a splint and realize there is a good chance you will not be able to walk for 6-8 weeks. And that's a pretty conservative diagnosis. Some people end up with surgery. I kept going back and forth between jokes--asking Matt to get me some jello like I was in a nursing home--and feelings of defeat. How was I going to manage? How was I going to teach classes and attend my conference? Would I have to put my entire life on hold while I sat on the couch each day with my leg propped up with water and snacks in reach? This on the tails of a super painful ear infection and really bad allergies?

Today, God answered my prayers in a big, gracious way. The orthopedist took a look at my x-rays and said that because my bones are so close together, he would give me a walking boot immediately, and I can start walking on it little by little as I'm comfortable. I'm planning to continue babying it for at least a few days because I don't want to overdo it, but this was a huge relief. Getting the split off alone was wonderful--the back of my heel had started developing a sore from the splint being on too tight. He said I may even be able to wear regular shoes in another month or so.

This got me thinking about I Corinthians 12:21-26:

"The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I don't need you!' And the head cannot say to the feet, 'I don't need you!' On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parks that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parks that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the  body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it."


Let me just say, division in the body--division in the bones-- hurts. Badly. Division bleeds internally, and inflames, and takes time to repair. So for starters, let's be sure that when division does occur in the body, we allow the whole process to take place. Sometimes a blood clot has to form at the site of the fracture, and that place remains sensitive as we heal. Don't try to rush people with fractures. You will only hinder (and possibly prevent) their healing.

The other application I want to draw from all of this is that every little bone in the body matters. I thought about attaching an x-ray of my foot but was afraid that might freak some people out, so let me just tell you, my fractures are tiny. If you just glanced at the x-ray, you probably wouldn't seem them. And yet, a small little fracture (or three of them, in my case!) can cause problems for the whole body. The whole foot becomes inflamed. My ankle has been hurting even worse than my foot because of improper attempts to fix the problem (how often does the church try to fix one thing in a person and inadvertently create a bigger problem?!). My wrists and good knee are sore from hobbling around on crutches. I haven't been able to sleep well.

Three tiny little fractures in one tiny little foot bone have affected everything about my life.

Did you catch that?

God taught me today that even in the tiniest fracture in the body of Christ affects us--and Him--in a huge way. You may think that your sin, or your struggle, or your pain-- or even your calling-- is insignificant. That's not a lie. The enemy wants us to believe we don't matter, and that assuming we do matter is equivalent to pride. But that's not what God says. God says you matter. I matter. Immensely. 

God has given each of us unique roles in the body. Maybe you feel insignificant because your role isn't flashy enough. Maybe you wish you had a different career or town or lifestyle. I mean, who hasn't wished to be on Dancing with the Stars? But your purpose--your calling-- is vital. You may be a tiny little bone in the foot that no one notices, but without you living out your purpose every day of your life, we all suffer. The world suffers--because you were created to bring something unique and beautiful to it. If you don't serve your purpose, no one will. If you don't take up your calling, the whole body will be crippled because of it.

Did you know that when you break a bone, your body pulls nutrients and antioxidants from other parts of the body to repair the injury? Bone healing can even be encouraged and sped up by taking multivitamins and getting plenty of good-for-you things like antioxidants and zinc. Likewise, when someone is broken, we ought to pool all our resources together--no matter how long it takes or how debilitating the injury--to help bring forth healing.

So be encouraged today that you matter. No matter how small or insignificant your daily tasks seem, they matter immensely. Without you, your world hobbles. So hold your head up. And be careful when walking through the garage. :)

What Are You Racing Toward?

A couple days ago, I was driving to meet my parents for lunch when one car ahead of me almost sideswiped the car in the next lane. I almost honked to alert them to the danger, but it was so surreal, I found myself just watching, stunned. We had just come from a red light, so most likely no one would've been hurt, but the second car would've been badly messed up. We're talking... these people just decided to drive into the other lane without looking at all.

Well clearly not looking before changing lanes is Bad Driving 101. But what came next is what I found really interesting.

The woman in the nearly-sideswiped car didn't even honk. She just pulled as far to the right as she could, and pretty much stopped her car. But then a few seconds later, as if everything that'd just happened suddenly registered, she lost it. Like, really. I watched as she flew up to the other car, seemed to yell something through her window (and I'm guessing it wasn't "let's go to Krispy Kreme for some chocolate frosted"), and then she sped around them and cut them off! When they tried to change lanes and slow down to get away from her, she did it again. All down the road, she kept zipping through traffic and slowing down just so she could cut them off.

Meanwhile, I'm just ambling along at a usual pace, and I ended up passing both of them.

This whole thing got me thinking. 1) Don't change lanes without looking because that makes people very, very mad. 2) where we put our focus determines what we race toward.

I am sure both of those people had places to go and things to do. They started at the red light at the same place as me-- on a normal journey to their destination. But somewhere along the way, something happened. Someone got angry. Bitter. Distracted. Pretty soon, all either car could think about was the other person. How they didn't deserve the way that person had treated them. How frustrated they were.

And the irony is, all this obsession with the near-accident got them nowhere. Literally and figuratively. And here I come along, like the tortoise in the race, passing them all.

We all get sideswiped sometimes. We don't like to admit it, but it happens. It's part of life. Things come in our lane as we're going about our merry way, and they try to wreck us. It's what we do with the near wrecks that matter. Do we let them consume us? Do we dart through traffic just to cut those people off and prove a point? Or do we keep blazing ahead with our eyes on the finish line?

Hebrews 12:1-3 in The Message says it this way:

Do you see what this means-- all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we'd better get on with it. Strip down, start running--and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed--that exhilarating finish in and with God--he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he's there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourself flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!

I hope you're encouraged today to keep running the race, no matter what might get in your way. Oh, and look twice before changing lanes! :) 

The Persistence of Pain

Happy August, everyone!

I think I mentioned last week that I have been battling with allergies this summer. Well, this weekend, the ear pain started. At first I thought, "Meh, I'll give it a few days and see if it goes away." Then it started getting worse. And worse. Until even the thought of eating Godiva chocolate in Hawaii didn't make it better. So I knew it was time to see a doctor.

The doctor said I have an infection in my ear canal, which is a pretty easy fix, so he prescribed me ear drops. One would think this process would be simple enough, right? Nope.

I get a call from my usual pharmacy stating they don't carry those ear drops but could order them by tomorrow. I'm thinking, "Maybe you don't understand that I currently feel like an army of miniature elves are stabbing my ear canal with their miniature daggers." But instead I just say, "No problem. Thanks." I then call my doctor's office and have the prescription sent to a different pharmacy. I call to check on it a few hours later, and they tell me I'm not in the system and they can't find my prescription.

Lovely.

Long story short, turns out that pharmacy didn't have the medicine either, so I ended up driving to yet another one. I'm standing in the middle of the cosmetics aisle at Walgreens, and the elf-stabbing feeling is getting increasingly worse, and I am just desperate to feel better.

And I started thinking about the importance of pain.

In life, we all try to avoid pain. I think it's generally on the top of everyone's priority list right next to, "don't die." It's human to avoid pain. And so sometimes we blame God when we're hurting. We think, "God, why are you letting this happen to me? Can't you please just make it stop? If you really care, why are You letting me suffer?"

It's a hard issue to grapple with. I don't have the answers to why some people are healed and some people aren't. I know it's not because the un-healed people are loved any less by God than the healed people... despite how convenient it us for us to think that if our faith is strong enough, nothing bad will ever happen.

But I do know this. Pain is important. Pain serves a purpose. Pain points us toward redemption.

When I was standing there in Walgreens so miserable, I would've given my shoe collection for some medication. I was desperate. We're talking, worse pain than my wisdom teeth removal surgery. And in that moment, I realized how serious my infection was.

Had I not experienced that pain, I probably wouldn't have gone to the doctor. I definitely wouldn't have made it a priority. And meanwhile, the infection in my ear would have continued spreading... to the point it could have affected my hearing.

The absence of pain, then, affects our ability to hear clearly.

My pastor is diabetic. Several years ago, he walked for a month upon a broken foot without realizing anything was wrong. As a result of that experience, he had to be in a wheelchair for almost a year as the tiny bones of his foot healed, and he also faced the possibility of an amputation (which, thankfully, did not happen).

The fall is real. Sin is real, and so is its consequence.

If God took away all the pain in the world, would we take that truth as seriously?

For those of you who have children, imagine what their lives would be like if they felt no pain. They would be paralyzed, and they would injure themselves in such catastrophic ways if they never learned that oven burns hurt and fire ant beds can't be played in.

God is looking out for us by allowing us to feel pain. He doesn't want us to become numb to the wages of sin. He doesn't want us to become paralyzed in our lives, to lose our desperation for redemption. Because if we stop believing the infection is real, we'll never go to the physician--meanwhile, we'll be wasting away, and our purpose will go unfulfilled.

I hope this encourages you with whatever you are facing today. So often, people are quick to dismiss the real problems of the world, and I think that does a disservice to the redemptive power and the great love of God. God's got you, wherever you are, and He's not letting go.

What Keeps You Going?

Today was one of those days. Nothing really went wrong. I had a pleasant cup of tea and snuggled my dogs before planning write. And then... nothing. Just not really in the writing mood.

I kept finding things to do to distract myself. Ever been there? Laundry, dusting the piano, watering flowers. Finally, after a few hours, I sat down in the office chair to try writing again.

It was hard. Like studying for an exam in college after you've just taken cold medicine. Nothing was wrong. I just wasn't feeling it. I've found that this happens sometimes.

We all have moments of elation in our callings. We go to conferences and get so excited as we catch a vision of where our writing might take us. We meet wonderful friends online and swap work, so happy to get positive feedback on our precious WIP from mentors and critique partners. We have those moments--those often quiet moments--where God whispers, and we know... we just know... the things ahead are nothing like the things behind. We know the calling is worth the work it takes to get there.

But then there are other moments--the everydays--when it's so much easier to sit back and not write. To turn on the TV, or grab a book, or get lost in Facebook statuses. Before we know it, another day has passed, and maybe we didn't pull up Microsoft Word at all. Maybe we didn't feed our calling. And maybe a little part of it dimmed.

If we're not careful, we can slip into this it's-still-my-dream-but-I'm-just-not-feeling-it-now routine, that, over time, undermines our calling. Whatever you feed, grows. All it takes is one glance at my weed-filled garden to prove that! So feed your dreams. Feed your calling.

But how do we feed our God-dreams? Through daily discipline. Through the mornings we don't want to get up early and the afternoons we feel tired and the nights we want to watch TV. I am so bad at this sometimes. I let myself get caught up in a bunch of distractions.

I would encourage you to write down your dreams and a timeline for when/how you want to achieve them. Pray about these goals, and ask God if He has more.

We have to be intentional if we want to dream big dreams. They aren't going to come true on their own.  How do you build a stairwell to the clouds? One step at a time. :)

What do you do to help stay focused when your daily routine seems busy or boring? How do you make yourself say no to distractions?

Happy Monday!

Hi all! I've been battling with allergies for a couple weeks now (bleh!) and taking Benadryl every day to keep them under control. So needless to say, no DIY project this week! Instead, I've been totally wrapped up in reading Redeeming Love. Crazy, I know, but this is actually the first time I've read it. I thought to myself, could it really live up to all that hype? Uh, yes it can. No wonder this book has sold over one million copies!


How has everyone's week been? Are you all on track with your writing goals now that fall is just around the corner? (At least, I like to think that whenever it's so hot outside-ha!) I need to do some serous catch up work this week because my allergies have given me that fuzzy-headed feeing, and I've fallen behind. But I'm determined to get this book done and done well before conference season!

Read any great books lately?

Pray Well

I don't know about you, but sometimes when I pray, I come away feeling more burdened than I began.

Let me give an example, and this may sound pithy, but I think it works to clarify. You know those photos people post on Facebook of lost dogs? Yeah, the terribly sad ones. I always try to pray, even if it's just for a few moments, the dogs or cats will find their way back home. But often, as I think through all these different scenarios of things that might have happened to these poor people's beloved pet, I end up stressing myself out and coming away from the prayer feeling burdened.

This was never God's design.



If we're not careful, this can become a vicious cycle that actually turns us away from, rather that toward, God.

Today I was listening to KLove with the following verse was read:

Don't let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me. (John 14:1 NLT)

Don't let our hearts be troubled? Trust in God and in Christ? Isn't that what I'm doing when I send up these frantic prayers? Well, maybe not . . .

Today I want to challenge you--and myself--that if prayer leaves you feeling vulnerable, fragmented, and worrisome, then something is wrong. Prayer is designed to put us in connection with God, and His presence will always make us whole. We may not always like His answer, but it's best for us, and something deep within our soul recognizes that. When we hear from God, we find peace. We feel settled.



Prayer should be a conversation with God, not a one-sided street where we beg God to do what we want and hope He hears us. We need to do less "convincing" and more listening. 

Time and again, I am amazed when God reminds me He's been two steps ahead of me all along. I don't have to figure it all out and suggest a game plan to Him. I don't have to talk Him into doing things my way. I don't have to beg Him to be good or to care about my life. He already is good, and He already does care. More deeply than I know.

What I do need to do is trust.

See, without trust, the trouble sets in. With trust, on the other hand, we can find freedom. Have you ever dated someone you didn't trust and found yourself constantly trying to govern their behavior? Don't treat God that way. He's in the business of healing us, not breaking us down.



So let me point out several areas where we can trust God, and thus avoid the troubling of our hearts...

• Trust who God is. Do you really believe God is good? That He loves His children? That He loves you and died for relationship? That He knows your day to day moments and is highly invested in redeeming your life, and your heart? This seems like such a simple concept, but it's difficult to put into practice. When challenges and disappointments come, we tend to doubt God's nature. We wonder if He is still good. We wonder if He has forgotten us. God is I AM-- who was and is and is to come. He will never leave you nor forsake you. Taste and see that He is good. And can I also just say something else? He gets us. He loves us. It's no surprise to Him that we doubt His love. So ask Him to show Himself to you, to make His love real in your life in a whole new way. Ask Him to remind you of His goodness, and He will.

• Trust who you are. You are a child of God. A friend of God. Sometimes in the church, we harp on our fallen nature a lot. We hear about how fallen, how bruised, how broken we are, and how far we are from God's original plan. Yes, it's important to recognized our flawed state because it's the first step to receiving grace. However, I think we make a major mistake when we oversimplify our characterization of humanity as broken. We are still infinitely valuable to God--despite the fall and even in it. We were created to do good things--created in the image of God. Did you catch that? You were created in the image of God. Not just Adam or Eve or Noah or David or the apostle Paul. You. Your friends, your spouse, your children. God cares about you just as much as He cared about them. You don't have to talk God into caring, or listening. He already cares much more than you realize. Instead of trying to talk Him into getting in your boat, step inside His. It's a much more fulfilling ride, I guarantee, because God is the one who designed your heart in the first place, and you were created to crave intimacy with Him. You are uniquely valuable to Him as an individual, so don't dismiss the creation He so desperately loves... yourself.

• Trust God's promises. Has God promised you something but hasn't delivered yet? Are you feeling like Abraham... old and desperate for affirmation of God's promise? Sometimes we have to wait before we hear from God, but He always answers us, and He always listens. Hold fast to the promises God has spoken into your life and into your heart. He has not forgotten them, and He has not forgotten you.

When we begin to reshape our perspective of God, ourselves, and His promises, we begin to pray differently... we start seeing prayer as a way to ask God what He wants rather than as a means to our own end. God is not your personal genie. He's got too much more in mind for our lives to give up His heaven-sized plans for our earth-sized ones.

What about you? Do you ever find yourself growing weary in prayer? In what ways have you learned to trust God, and how does that help your heart?